November 30-December 11, 2022 with Megan Edwards Crewe & local guide John Christian
When it comes to forest primeval, few places on earth match Guyana, which still boasts a lion's share of its original rainforest. Though the coast is pretty developed -- with all the bustle, commotion and habitat destruction that accompanies development -- much of the interior is nearly untouched. When you can bird in the middle of a country's main north-south highway without getting run over (indeed, without having to scurry to the edge more than 4 or 5 times an hour), you know you're in a pretty special place. From that bustling coast to the country's fabulous forested heartland, from swift-flowing rivers to soggy grasslands, we traveled via boat, bus, jeep and foot in search of Guyana's many special birds and animals, reveling in the country's still-substantial wilderness as we went. And despite some inclement weather (and its resulting impressive flooding) and COVID briefly rearing its ugly head, we largely had a great time doing so.
We started our adventure with an afternoon visit to Georgetown's famous botanical gardens, located right in the heart of the city. Our chief target here was the Blood-colored Woodpecker, and we weren't disappointed, finding a confiding pair right along the park's main drag. But they weren't our only discovery. A perched-up Toco Toucan flaunted its huge orange bill and had us all thinking of Fruit Loops -- or was it glasses of Guinness? A trio of Greater Anis flicked through bushes overhanging a murky pond while Wattled Jacanas strode across vegetation floating on the pond's surface below. Two Black-capped Donacobius clung to a series of Lotus stems, not far from a pair of Yellow-chinned Spinetails doing the same. Common and Spotted tody-flycatchers and a Mouse-colored Tyrannulet vied for "cutest small flycatcher" honors. A sleepy Great Horned Owl blinked down at us from its well-concealed day roost. A Straight-billed Woodcreeper hitched it way up a tree trunk, not far from another tree liberally sprinkled with Great and Snowy egrets in all their breeding finery. Limpkins searched for prey while Snail Kites glided overhead. A Zone-tailed Hawk surveyed its domain from a tall tree. Dozens of parrots, macaws and parakeets -- including an all-too-brief Festive Amazon -- screeched and squawked and flapped past as they gathered before heading to their night roosts. All in all, it was an enjoyably birdy introduction to the country.
We were up and out before daybreak the next morning, heading east towards the Mahaica River. It was dark and gloomy, with rain spattering the windows as we drove, but fortunately, things had cleared somewhat by the time we reached the river. There, we were met by our boatman, Naresh, who took us upstream against a swiftly flowing current. One of the main targets here is Guyana's national bird, the primitive, leaf-eating Hoatzin, and we saw dozens of them (more than I've ever seen on a single trip before) drying out atop bushes along the river or growling and "threatening" us with spread wings and tails from among the dense vegetation. A morose-looking group of Colombian Red Howlers were also drying out in the treetops, and we had lovely looks at a tiny, point-blank White-bellied Piculet nearby. Green-tailed Jacamars glittered on riverside perches, Little Cuckoos flicked through eye-level branches, Wing-barred Seedeaters flashed their telltale wing bars and Long-winged Harriers coursed overhead. Silvered Antbirds were frustratingly elusive (though a few caught a quick glimpse or two), but Barred and Black-crested Antshrikes proved much more cooperative, singing challenges from open branches. After a pleasant hour or so on the river, we headed back to Naresh's comfortable porch, where we enjoyed a delicious "second breakfast" (like a band of hobbits!) of roti and curry prepared by his wife, Shandi. And while we lounged there, Brown-throated Parakeets, Yellow-chinned Spinetails and a female White-tailed Goldenthroat helped to keep us entertained.
Our journey back to the hotel was interrupted by several productive stops. A flooded rice field along deHoop road yielded a staggering EIGHT Azure Gallinules, which called and flew and chased each other around. A close Maguari Stork hunted prey in another flooded field. Lesser Yellow-headed Vultures quartered low over the road, giving us the chance to see their distinctively colorful heads, and to compare them to nearby Turkey Vultures. Some ace whistling by John brought a screaming Rufous Crab Hawk into view on a phone pole right over our heads. Our search for Mangrove Rail was less successful; we only heard it, despite scrambling over a crumbling concrete sea wall and maneuvering through an imposing pile of smashed concrete chunks to get closer. However, we did spot our first brilliantly hued Scarlet Ibises winging past over the mangroves.
Due to the late departure of our flight the following day, we had a bit of a "lie in" the morning, with some birding around the hotel and at the Georgetown sea wall as we made our way to the domestic airport. A soaring pair of Gray-lined Hawks capped our hotel list nicely, and some pointblank Scarlet Ibis were definitely the highlight of our visit to the coast, rendering the nearby shorebirds and Snowy Egrets all but invisible in comparison. A combination of bad weather and miscommunication between the airline and our ground agent meant a very late departure to Kaieteur Falls National Park, and we fretted about whether we'd get to land at all. But eventually, the clouds parted, the pilot appeared and we headed off in our small plane, travelling over verdant forest that stretched to the horizon in all directions, broken only occasionally by a gleaming river or the ugly scars of a mining operation. Once we reached the park, we had only an hour and a quarter for our visit, so we hustled straight out to the falls on the mile-long loop trail, stopping briefly along the way to check out a Cliff Flycatcher that was hunting from a dead snag. At the thundering falls themselves, hundreds of White-tipped Swifts rocketed back and forth over the gorge and dime-sized Golden Rocket Frogs rested in their private little pools, snug among the leaves of the Giant Tank Bromeliads that line the edges of the plateau the falls drop from. And on our way back to the plane, we detoured to see a quartet of male Guianan Cocks-of-the-Rock on their lek, bright splashes of color in a cloud-darkened forest.
We were up and out early the next morning, heading up the Essequibo towards the low dome of aptly named Turtle Mountain in the half light. The river was racing, with water so high that Cocoi Herons were reduced to sitting in trees, with dozens of Black-collared Swallows (which normally nest among boulders in the river -- at that point yards underwater) doing the same. Thanks to the high water, we were able to take our boats much further along the path than is normal, getting great looks at a streamside Rufescent Tiger-Heron and a circling Large-billed Tern in the process. As usual, the camp clearing on the mountain proved especially productive, with fruiting Cecropia trees attracting a succession of Green and Black-necked aracaris, White-throated Toucans, Guianan Toucanets, Black-throated Barbet, Black-tailed Tityras and Dusky Parrots, while Swallow-tailed Puffbirds stood sentinel on treetops nearby. Along the quieter trail, we saw a singing Ferruginous-backed Antbird march through the understory, whistled in a couple of calling Great Jacamars and watched a Cinnamon-rumped Woodcreeper and a Golden-collared Woodpecker crawling up tree trunks. A mixed flock yielded good looks at Pygmy and Spot-tailed antwrens and Dusky-throated Antshrike, with a number of other less cooperative flockmates that were heard only.
You can see my complete trip report on eBird at this link: https://ebird.org/tripreport/358170
Megan